


be

by clab



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Original Character - Freeform, Original Male Character - Freeform, Ruth Hannigan (Lone Wanderer), depressed boy comforting a depressed boy, i used okay 14 times in this fic yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clab/pseuds/clab
Summary: Instead of leaving Bryan in Greyditch, the kid from Vault 101 lets Bryan bunk in his spare room until he can get in touch with the kid's aunt.





	be

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a drabble [Deathclaw_for_Cutie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathclaw_for_Cutie) sent me!

“Ah… hey.”

Coming home  _ (home? Is that what this is? No, no, try again. Start over.) _

Walking through the door to his Megaton house to the blond boy lounging on the blue chair, feet dangling over the edge, face obscured by a Grognak the Barbarian comic was becoming a normal sight, but it always caught Ruth off guard-- making him stop, stare, contemplate for a moment before closing the door behind him.

The blond head perked up, blue eyes peering over. Body turned, feet on the floor, the comic placed gently in his lap. “H-hi, Mister Ruth.”

“Thought we agreed I was just Ruth, kid.”

“... yeah… and that I’m… Bryan. Not kid.”

“Right.”

Ruth shifted on his feet, glancing around the open area that served as his living area. A couch sat in the center, a blanket thrown over the left side of it to obscure a large, dark stain that Moira had told Ruth was most certain, definitely  _ probably _ not blood. He had scounged up a Television from one of the Springvale houses. Sat it on a shelf, placed beside the stairs. Made the place feel more like home, even if it sat unused, cracked, collecting dust. A small table and three chairs were pushed against the back wall, a collection of snacks-

_ If you’re hungry, kid- _

_ Bryan. _

_ Right. If you’re hungry, Bryan, have at ‘em. _

-sat upon it. The space left of the entrance was just a table, guns and clothes and anything Ruth didn’t feel like organizing  _ (everything) _ piled on it.

The chair Bryan sat on was beside the couch, closer to the fridge sat in the back of the room, out of sight from Ruth’s current position, facing the television.

Ruth pointed to the table. “You haven’t touched them.” Bryan looked down at the Grognak comic. Tapped his fingers along the cover. “Why not? You don’t like ‘em?”

“N-no! I do, I just…” A pause. “I’ve been using those caps you gave me to eat at that, uh, place. Right under us.”

“No you haven’t. Jenny hasn’t seen you once.”

He could see Bryan biting his lip. The kid refused to look up.

Ruth sighed. Scratched the back of his head. Sighed again, rolled his shoulders. “What’s up, Bryan? You okay?”

“Yeah. I just…” His brows drew in. Coming up with an excuse? Find his words? Ruth let the silence drag on. “I haven’t been very hungry.”

Ruth’s kneejerk reaction was to ask the kid if he missed his dad, had his mouth open to ask before he caught himself and his jaw snapped shut. Of course the fucking kid missed his dad. It was only four days ago the kid came running to him, scaring the shit out of him, asking him,  _ begging _ him for help, to find his Papa.

“Oookay…” The word was drawn out from uncertainty. “Okay. Um. That’s…” Ruth sighed. Ran a hand over his face, stared at Bryan’s skinny frame. “... Ya gotta eat… somethin’, ki-- Bryan. You can’t just…” He shrugged. “Wither away to nothing.”

“I’m not…  _ trying _ to.” Bryan spit out the last part. “I’m just.” He clenched his eyes shut. “I don’t… all I want to do is sleep and… pretend I’m not here.”

_ “What? What? No, no, you can’t go in there, kid, your dad, he’s--” _

_ “I have to. I have to get my stuff. Mine and my dad’s stuff. I can’t just leave it there!” _

_ “I’ll get it! I’ll get it, you don’t-- don’t go in there.” _

_ “No. I have to do it.” _

_ “No, you don-” _

_ “I’m doing it.” _

_ “Okay! Okay, okay. Okay. Just. Stay here. For a minute? I’ll get a suitcase from that other house, okay? And I’ll- let me just, clean up the house. You shouldn’t- you don’t need to see that.” _

_ “... okay.” _

_ “Okay.” _

Ruth had covered the body with the blanket from upstairs. Dragged the ant corpses to the kitchen, out of sight. Had grabbed a suitcase from the Brandice’s house. Stood by the entranceway as Bryan walked in, stone-faced, gripping that suitcase, his hands shaking. Watched him take a deep breath. Watched those blue eyes glance down towards the blanket covered corpse, jerk his attention away, and walk up those stairs with his head high, eyes straight.

He came down half an hour later, body tense, radiating exhaustion, clutching that suitcase close.

_ “I can carry it, if you want.” _

_ “I’ve got it.” _

_ “Okay.” _

Bryan carried the suitcase all the way back to Megaton.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say to that, man.” Bryan didn’t look up. “I could say shit like, like, you are here, and you gotta live, but that’s just a crock of shit, right? It’s such- it’s fucking shit. All of it. All of this.”

“Yeah.”

“But.” Ruth swallowed. Closed his eyes. Tilted his head back and took a deep inhale. Exhaled after five seconds. “But you are here. And you don’t gotta. Do anything. You can just be. I know it’s- it’s hard, man, it’s  _ hard _ ,”  _ It’s impossible,  _ “But you just take it one day at a time, yeah? You got through yesterday. The day before. Today’s almost over and you just gotta focus on tomorrow.”

He looked over. Bryan was staring at him. The kid looked tired. He had to sleep sixteen hours a day and he looked so tired. Ruth wondered if that’s how he looked, too.

“I’m not. Good at this stuff. I’m trying to just… get through the days too. This world is…” He bit his lip. Didn’t avert his eyes from the kid. “It’s shit, and I hate it, and I wanna crawl back to my vault. But I can’t. So… I’m here. Just. Being.”

“Just being.” Bryan repeated.

“Yeah. Just being.”

The kid looked down. Plucked at the loose threads of his ratty shirt, still covered in soot. “You’re really nice for a guy who’s just being.”

“I’m not that nice, kid.”

“Bryan.”

“Bryan.”

“Yes you are. You, you took me into your hom-”

“House.”

“You took me into your house. For- no reason.”

A shrug. “Couldn’t just leave you there.”

“Sure you could’ve.”

“... I guess.”

“... I never… thanked you. For doing that.”

“You don’t gotta.”

“It was. Really nice. Of you. And I! I appreciate it, I do, I just…” Bryan drooped back so his back was against the chair in a slouch. “It’s really hard just to wake up.”

Ruth nodded. Sat on the couch and scrubbed his face with his hands. Tried to scrub the burning from his eyes. “Yeah. I get that.” A silence filled the room, awkward, but comfortable. Warm. Ruth cleared his throat. “How ‘bout- how ‘bout I get us some food from The Brass Lantern- the place right below us-, whatever you want, and we just. Hang out. You ‘n me.”

Bryan eyed him. “I… um, you’d be… what about the bar?”

Ruth shrugged, leaned back. “It’d be nice to have a quiet night. Where you just.”

“Be.”

“Yeah.”

“... okay. Okay, Mister Ruth, okay.”

“Just Ruth, kid.”

“Bryan. Could I get- could I get Iguana on a stick? A-and noodles? And, uh, m-maybe a nuka-cola? I-if that’s not too much.”

A chuckle. “Whatever you want, Bryan.”

_ Moira, bless her soul, got a bed and mattress in the spare room in less than two hours. It was a tight fit, but it fit. He got a shelf from Springvale School, and a table from one of those blown out houses around the school. Shoved them into the room. Tucked a blanket around the mattress and had another one on top. Two pillows. A lamp on the table, used as a nightstand. It wasn’t much, but it was something. _

_ When Bryan came stumbling downstairs twenty-two hours later, stammering about being thirsty and could he please have a sip of water, Ruth showed the kid the room. _

_ “You didn’t think you’d get my bed the whole time, did you? I ain’t that generous, kid.” _

_ Bryan had stared. Stared, and stared, and touched the blankets and stared. Sniffed, scrubbed at his eyes. “Th-thank you, M-Mister Ruth, I-I don’t know how t-to repay you.” _

_ “Don’t worry about it, man. And it’s just Ruth.” He grabbed the suitcase from his room, placed in the safe position at the foot of his bed when Bryan had been sleeping. Put it on the bed. Set a bottle of purified water on the table. “Make yourself comfortable. There’s purified water in the fridge, I try ‘n keep it on hand.” Lie. Had bought it hours earlier. “Help yourself.” _

_ “Th-thank you, Mist… uh, Ruth. Thank you, Ruth.” _

_ “You’re, uh, you’re welcome, Bryan.” _


End file.
